


Clair de lune

by reddietofack



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Child Abuse, Consensual Underage Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Love, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Porn with Feelings, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28876962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddietofack/pseuds/reddietofack
Summary: "That's going to kill you, you know."Just like that she vanished off. He scowled at her direction, though he doubted she could hear him because she was already across the building, now in the driveway. He tossed the burned out cigarette down a few meters, the cigarette falling just a few feet down the stairs. "Who does she think she is, if I want to die so be it," he grumbled.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 15
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters will be kinda slow! Sorry in advanced. I hope you enjoy this.

Smoke entered the lungs of the pale boy, known as Michael Wheeler who sat on the stairs and he held it, let it take over his body. He shivered a bit, although it wasn't cold-- actually it was 90 degrees. He didn't notice... even with all the drugs he took he still felt chills, he always felt empty so he always wanted more and more cuz' he thought it would make him feel better. He never talked about how he felt with anyone, but he was very depressed. The kind of depression where if he was to drop dead tomorrow, he probably wouldn't even care.

His thoughts were short lived because not even a second later a petite girl with a pleated white skirt on with Mary Jane's hopped out of the library. She was around the boy's age, maybe. Short and skinny, but she had curves in the right places to fill her out. His eyes were dark, thick black curls shielding them as he stared at her like a prey eyeing it's next meal. Even with him sitting on the stairs, eyeing her up and down he knew he had to be at least eight inches shorter than him. For a brief moment that two teens locked eyes with one another, and they didn't say much to each other, they just stared.

After a few seconds in an awkward silence she tilted her head and she looked at him with a wide mouth and said "That's going to kill you, you know."

Just like that she vanished off. He scowled in her direction, though he doubted she could hear him because she was already across the building, now in the driveway. He tossed the burned-out cigarette down a few meters, the cigarette falling just a few feet down the stairs. "Who does she think she is, if I want to die so be it," he grumbled.

He stomped down the stairs and then stepped on the bud of his now-dead cancer stick. His combat boots scraped against the sidewalk floor as he walked, he began to hum a song to himself that he'd heard at his favorite shop a few weeks back.

He wondered if he had any money, he'd hoped he did, but all he found when he rustled through his pocket was a packaged yellow condom wrapper that was beginning to melt due to the heat and a few quarters. "Oh fuck this," he groaned to himself, he thought he at least had five bucks on him. It didn't take long for him to start walking home, his shoes still making noise as he walked. He was eyed by adults, and teens whispered about him. Many avoided him altogether due to his appearance. It wasn't like he was ugly, he knew for a fact he wasn't.

He just looked scary to most. He had skin so pale that he sometimes looked like a vampire. The kind of paleness where your skin looks closer to paper than it does to anything else. His eyes were dark, almost black looking, even in the sunlight. He had under-eye bags, bruises, and some marks on certain places from his more wild nights that he couldn't even explain... but he also had beautiful freckles dancing over his cheeks and nose, and stopping at his hollowed-out cheekbones. His hands were veiny, and they had rings on almost every finger. Silver rings, most usually stolen because god knows that this kid can't afford actual rings. His hair was his best feature on him, if not his height was his beautiful curls. They were as black as the night, jumping wildly whenever he took a step. They were a bit long, just over his shoulders, they hid his eyes making him look even more mysterious. 

He made it home after walking for what felt like hours. Could he honestly even call this place home? It was more just where he'd get a shower and slept every night. Nothing more and nothing less. He didn't feel like knocking on the front door, because he probably would be greeted by his deadbeat father who seemed to always be angry. Sometimes it was like that man was just looking for something to be mad at. He got angry at the pettiest things.

The boy walked around his house and he let out an annoying noise when he saw his father's beat-up car in the driveway. His dad was probably drunk because it was 3 pm and when it was usually this time the man had just come back from a fuck buddy's house or the bar. He huffed and looked up into his bedroom to make sure the window was open. When he was sure it was he sighed, grabbing the ladder that he had in the bushes. He leaned it up to his window that was already open and he climbed up the ladder. He had to be still, so he didn't fall. Before this ladder was here he used to climb the tree right next to his bedroom and then jump into the window... but that was always so dangerous. Luckily, he found this ladder at the landfill. To any outsiders looking in, they'd pity the boy, but he didn't want pity. He just wanted to be treated like he was an adult, because realistically in less than two years he'd legally be one.

Once he was inside his bedroom he let out a long sigh. It was getting harder and harder to climb in through that tiny window. Sure, he was skinny, but he was also extremely tall and so his awkward legs always got in his way. His long legs were more than half his body length. He kicked the ladder back down into the bush once he was comfortably in his bedroom. It was so hot, he could pass out from the heat. Before he did anything else he plugged his dead phone up and watched as the charging icon came onto the black screen. Soon after the phone powered on. "Fuckin' dumbass probably didn't pay any of the bills. It's so hot."

The boy slipped his combat boots off, throwing them aimlessly behind himself, and then he slipped his tight black jeans off, as well as his signature red knitted sweater. He was in plain boxers before he knew it, and he thought about earlier, the girl from the library coming into mind again. Just when he was going to get comfortable in his bed his phone buzzed on his nightstand and he rolled his eyes and snatched it off the charger, then picked it up. The caller ID read unknown... weird, but nothing he'd never seen before. He picked the phone up and was met with the voice of Sean. Sean was a middle-aged white man who was Mike's boss. Mike sold drugs for a living.

"Where the fuck are you at, Finn?" The man said in an angry tone. Mike's code name was Finn, he made it up a few years back when this all started. Mike rolled his eyes at his phone and he scoffed. "What do you mean where am I? I'm at home. Listen, I can't go in today. I am busy alright?" He wasn't busy but that was an excuse that he loved to use all too much. He could almost hear Sean's anger through the phone as the man began to raise his voice. "Listen up, I don't have time for the bullshit. You better be here in an hour, or I am calling off any more money that you get from me. Do you get that?" The man seethed. The younger boy wanted to mimic the man and then hang up, but he decided he wanted to keep his job for a bit longer.  
"Be here in an hour or I will find someone else to replace you. Not just for today's job, but permanently."

The boy could never catch a break, never get a deep breath. Oh well, he decided. Money is money, doesn't matter what way you get it. "Alright. We meeting at the workhouse or what? Also, you didn't even explain what's going on. At least explain???" He was confused to say the least. Sean was a mad man, that's for sure, but he was never this mad, or this irritable. Maybe today was a big day, that's what Mike assumed this was all about. "I can't say over the phone. I don't know who's listening. Just meet me at the warehouse in less than an hour. I'm not playin'," and with that, the man hung up.

"Are you kidding me," Mike scoffed. He honestly thought today he would be able to get a nap. He soon sat up, deciding he can't lay down any longer because he'd be wasting time. He plugged his phone back in to let it charge at least a little bit till he had to leave. The same clothes that he'd tossed on the floor a few minutes he picked up and slipped on. He went over to his closet and he grabbed a gun, slipping it into the waistband of his boxers.

After pacing around for a bit longer, he grabbed his black backpack that was sat in the corner of his bedroom. He shoved his basically dead phone into his pocket and his dark black eyes rapidly looked around his room to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. "Game time." He sighed as he walked out his house and he almost ran over to the warehouse. He grabbed his earbuds from his backpack pocket, his arms long enough where he didn't even need to take his backpack off to grab it. He began to play music, 'The Pull Off by Lil peep' blasting.

In less than thirty minutes he was at the suspicious-looking deserted warehouse.

Once inside the building he saw the man known as Sean, an annoyed look on the man's face. "Now why the fuck is he already pissy," Mike groaned to himself, speeding up his steps as he neared the man. He realized his music was still blasting and he rolled his eyes to himself, yanking his earbuds out his ear and shoving his phone into his pocket.

"Hello..." He said, crossing his arms as he stared at Sean with a cautious look. He knew Sean wasn't in a good mood. Frankly, He didn't want to piss the man off more. He leaned against a nearby wall as the man began to speak, his body language showing that he truly didn't care.

"Look, we got a big order today. Some prissy rich white kids uptown ordered a qp (quarter pound) of weed." Mike's eyes tripled in size, though it was hard to tell because his curls covered most of it.

"You're kidding?! That's worth like... 1k? 2k?" Sean smirked at how fast the boy's attitude changed when he realized how much they could make today.

It was rare, extremely rare when they were able to get their hands on that much money... but then again that was a lot of weed.

"So... what do you want me to do?" Mike asked, tilting his head to the side like a lost puppy. Sean walked past Mike, making the teen boy think the older man was ignoring his question. That was up until he pulled the qp of weed out a drawer. "You're going to go up to northern Indiana and deliver this weed. It's about an hour away, I'll let you use the big car. Don't worry, I will stay in contact with you the whole time. I am trusting you on this, okay? That's why I didn't call any of the others up."

"How much am I getting for this," Mike asked, exciting himself as he thought about all the money.

Sean thought for a bit, hand on the hair on his chin. "I dunno kid, when you come back I'll tell you. Do you think you can do this?" Sean asked, and Mike nodded quickly. "I can, I won't let you down." He promised. Sean huffed and tossed the kid the keys to his car. "Bring it back in one piece or I will break your bones," Sean warned, putting the massive bag of weed into the boy's backpack. "If police stop you and ask for a license, give them this. I got it made the other day." It was a fake license that looked real enough.


	2. Chapter Two

It was getting late, the sun beginning to go down in Hawkins, Indiana. Jane would've been taking a bubble bath if it wasn't for the company she had at her home. Sometimes Jane felt so out of place compared to the rest of the kids around her. Everyone else was so close to each other... They all always seemed so happy. 

"Jane, come on. You've never been to a party. Live a little, alright! We start school in less than a week. You're really telling me you want to spend your last week trapped inside this place? You've already studied for the last three months. You literally spent the first day of summer break at the library... Who does that!" Her best friend, Maxine Mayfield said to her in a whiny tone. It wasn't specifically that she wanted to stay inside... but her father told her that she needed to study so she could be the best when school was back. She had so much pressure on her back from the older man. 

Maxine Mayfield was her very best friend. The only person who didn't seem to make her anxious, even when Max would babble about random, dumb things all of the time, and introduce her to new people. She was lucky to have the redhead in her life. They'd been friends since Jane could remember. Yeah, they were total opposites... but it didn't matter to Jane.

Jane thought about what her best friend said and she sighed a bit. She was a very introverted person, she liked to be kept to herself and there was nothing wrong with that... It was just sometimes she felt like she wasn't living her teen life to the fullest. Max always reminded her "You can only be a teen once. You've gotta live a little." Still, though, it always took extreme convincing to get the girl to do anything. Jane began to click her pen over and over, her leg bouncing as she thought about the good and bad of going to the party. 

"I'll go." She said in a melancholy tone.

Max could've broken the girl's eardrum's with the scream she let out when Jane finally agreed to go. "So where are we going?" Jane asked curiously as she began to put away all of her study items, back into her desk. Maxine was already running over to her best friend's massive closet, skimming through the many clothes. Max envied Jane for how many beautiful clothes she had laying around, and she just never wore. The two girls were about the same size, though Maxine's thighs were just the slightest bit thicker than Jane's.

Max glanced back at Jane, putting up a tight black dress to her best friend's frame. "We're going to North Indiana... It's like an hour away? Lucas is driving... and Tommy will be there," Max said with a smirk as she looked at how Jane smiled at the mention of Tommy. Tommy was a boy she met in the computer lab in freshman year, they'd known each other for about two years. 

"Alright, take that off," Max said, ushering to Jane's mom jeans and her comfortable sweater.

Jane huffed and began to peel her less attractive clothing off, tossing it aside. "I don't think you need a bra for this... Here, put this on." Jane's eyes widened at the article of clothing. "Max... this is revealing..." She said as she examined the bodycon dress. 

Max smirked at Jane and she nodded. "That's the point. Come on put it on, pleaseee?" She begged, giving the shorter girl her award-winning puppy eyes. Jane huffed and snatched the dress from Max, slipping it on her body. She didn't know how well it would fit, because she'd never even purchased anything like this before. The tag on the back said side xs, so she hoped it'd fit. 

Once Jane had shimmied herself into the dress she turned around to show Max.   
"Holy, fucking, shit," Max said as she looked at Jane... She looked amazing in the dress. 

The two teen girls finished getting dressed fastly, talking about random things to keep themselves company. Once the two girls were dressed they did light makeup and attempted to fix their hair a bit. 

"Alright, let's go."

~

Mike arrived at a massive building about an hour later after he'd left the warehouse. He'd been wondering to himself if they noticed if he stole a bit of weed for himself. He decided that whoever he was giving this to wouldn't notice. Luckily, he didn't get caught by police or anyone else. He pulled his phone out to make sure that he was in the proper place, and then he skimmed the area of where he was at. "God damn. these fuckers are loaded." He mumbled, looking around some more. He decided to stop stalling and he grabbed his backpack, swinging it over his back. 

"Alright, let's do this..." He said, slamming the car door shut behind him as he stepped out of it. A bunch of people were on the front lawn. It was loud, he was guessing a party was going on. That explains the big order. He walked up the path to the large doors, and when he was finally at the front door he rang the doorbell. He knew he probably didn't have to because it seemed like people were entering and leaving the house every second... but he wanted to at least attempt to be polite. He heard a voice come from the advanced doorbell, asking who he was. "My name is Finn, I have the stuff." 

It was quiet for a bit and then he heard a buzzing noise, and the door unlocked. "Come inside, when you're in the house walk past about eight doorways, I'm all the way in the last one to the right." Mike nodded to himself and he pulled on the heavy doors, walking inside the home. Music blasted in his ears and he gritted his teeth together. He probably would've enjoyed all of this if he wasn't sober. 

The smell of weed, sweat, and sex was all that filled his nostrils. It was all so strong he felt like he could get high from the damn air. He examined the art pieces on the walls, wondering how much everything was worth. Why do rich people like the ugliest art pieces, he asked himself?

He finally found the room and he walked inside. A bag of money sat in a plastic bag, and Mike eyed it. "You got the stuff right?" The person said. He didn't look that old, less than 25 for sure. He had thick curls, like Mike. They looked like they could be brothers, to be honest. 

Mike didn't answer, only shut the door behind them so they had no disrupting and then he began to take his backpack off so he could open it and give the man what he wanted. He hated small talk, and he wanted to avoid it at all costs, so he tried to do this as fast as he could. He did end up stealing a bit of the weed back in the car, only because he didn't feel like paying for his own. He slammed the stuffed bag of weed onto the table, and the man smirked and put the bag of money on the table. 

"Was nice doing business. You can stay around here for a while if you want," The man said as Mike put the money into his backpack. He'd count it later... for now, he just wanted to get out of here.

"Yeah. Thanks."

He left the room fastly, looking around to see where the exit of the home was. He at least needed to place his backpack with drugs and money in the car, some people would kill for the things he had in his bag. He found the front door and skimmed around for his car. He decided to put the bag behind the front seat, and then he locked the doors behind him. He knew it probably wasn't a good idea to stay around, but he couldn't care less. He'd leave as soon as he heard anything he didn't like. 

Once he was back inside the building he looked around for a bit, trying to find the kitchen. He walked around for a bit, wondering where he'd find that, but then he saw where a bunch of teens were exiting and he realized that is probably the kitchen. He was so much taller than everyone around him, he stood out, the colorful led lights tinting his paper-white skin colors of the rainbow. 

He found the kitchen and walked straight over to the vodka. 

He took the whole bottle because it wasn't open yet which meant no one could spike it. Technically this was stealing, but it was out in the open for everyone to consume so he decided he didn't even care. He sat down in one of the living rooms, the one that turned out to have the most people in it. 

It wasn't that Mike didn't like people, it was just the fact that most people annoyed him. He could only tolerate certain kinds of people in his life for this exact reason. It wasn't a dick move or anything like that, but he knew what he wanted, and he stuck to that. 

He sat down on a sofa, just watching those around him dance. No one could dance though, they were all terrible... but that made it fun. When you're a bad dancer amongst other bad dancers no one can judge anyone else. He opened the vodka in his hand and took a big swig of it, the liquid burning his throat in the slightest. He had his first sip of vodka when he was six, so this barely affected him. It took a lot for him to feel even a little drunk, which is why slowly and slowly he started to resort to stronger things... all to feel that little buzz.

"Come on, just let me fuck you," a boy sitting near him on the couch begged a girl who seemed to be under the influence. "I don't know," the girl slurred, scooting away from the weird boy. "I'll be gentle," the boy begged, pouting. Mike hated fuckers like him, those who had to beg someone for sex or get them under the influence to fuck them were scums. 

"Bro, she said no. Stop being fuckin' gross." He said, finally stepping in. The girl turned to him a bit and she smiled happily. That's when he realized that she looked familiar, and he pieced together that she was the girl from earlier who told him that he would die from smoking. "You should get some water," he suggested. 

What a small world, he thought. He wasn't mad at her for what she told him earlier. He just found it funny when people said things like that because you can die from anything. People live in too much fear, he thought it was dumb. Soon the girl stood up and walked away. He hoped she'd be fine, she didn't seem to be sober at all. 

He almost dozed off for a bit, until some girl spilled a bunch of punch onto him. He jumped up, almost immediately and he growled and tossed the vodka aside. He heard glass shatter and people scream and he rolled his eyes and walked past them all. They're so dramatic, he thought. It's just glass after all. He needed to find a bathroom. His first thought was that it would be easier to find one on the second floor because most people were downstairs. He found the stairs of the home fast, and he began to walk up to them, plugging his nose at the rancid smell of the spilled drink that was all over him. 

Once he finally found what he thought was a bathroom he swung the door open, but his eyes widened when he realized it was a bedroom. In the darkness, he could make out two people, but it sounded like someone was crying... not moaning. He knew it wasn't his business, but he needed to be sure that everything was okay to calm his nerves. He turned the nearby light switch on and was met with the girl from before, and that fucking boy who didn't know what no meant on top of her.

She was shaking, he could tell even from almost three meters away. "What the fuck man?!" he yelled, and he ran over to the two and pulled the boy off of her with all of his strength. The moment he did, the intoxicated girl tried to cover herself up, stained mascara on his face. He wasn't even thinking as he began to punch the boy with all of his strength, and he didn't stop, not until someone was pulling him off the boy. 

It was like all his other senses turned off at that moment. The boy who he'd beaten only touched Mike once during the fight, he punched Mike in the nose and now he was bleeding... He didn't look as bad as the kid under him though.

The boy who he'd beat had two swollen eyes, what looked like a broken nose, and he was unconscious. Mike wondered in the back of his mind if he'd killed him. Suddenly everyone was yelling around him, but all he could think about was how angry he was.

When everyone left the room except the girl, Mike turned to her. "Are you good...?" He asked. It was all he really cared about at that moment. The shaking girl nodded, clutching the cover that was over her body with all of her strength. 

"I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." He said in a quiet voice.

"Can you come out for a second... I-I need to fix my dress." She whispered, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah. Let me know if you need me. I'll be right in the hall... Okay?" She nodded and when he walked out she examined herself in a nearby mirror. Her brunette, shoulder-length hair was a mess. Mascara ran down her face, and her lipstick was smeared. A strap to her dress was coming off as well.

Mike was on the other side of the door like he promised, eyeing anyone who dared even walk past the room with an evil look. His knuckles were bruised and bloody, as was his face but he couldn't care. He was lost in his thoughts when the door open, and the girl peeked out to stare at him. "I will clean the blood off your face, come on." She said, not taking no for an answer as she tugged on his sleeve.

The two found a bathroom and she shut the door behind them. "Sit down," She ushered to the counter. He sat, and she bent down a bit to grab the first aid from the sink. "Why did you do that for me? You harmed yourself now." She said in a soft tone. She was relieved he came in though, she didn't know what would've happened if he stepped in. 

"He didn't... get to touch me. I know it's what you're wondering. He uh... he was about to." She explained, wetting a rag and tapping it lightly onto his bloodied nose. Luckily, it wasn't broken. "Your nose is fine. Let me see your hands?" She said, and he said nothing as he allowed her to clean his knuckles. She was so gentle as she cleaned him off. Once she'd decided he looked good, she put the items away with shaking hands. 

"What's your name?" She asked him, looking at him now. 

"Mike... Well- It's Michael Wheeler. Most call me Mike though. You?" 

"Jane... Jane Hopper." 

When she said her last name his eyes widened. Oh no, he couldn't be buddy-buddy with the Cheif of Hawkin's daughter. "Hopper?" He repeated, and she nodded. "Yes, Jane Hopper. Jim is my dad... as you know." 

He sighed and looked down. "Oh... cool. Was nice to meet you. I've gotta get home now. See ya." He said, and he jumped off the counter and practically ran out of the bathroom. She furrowed her eyebrows and bit her lip as she thought about why he had such a peculiar reaction. "Weird... so weird," she mumbled to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like there may be a few obstacles getting in the way of Jane and Mike's friendship... I hope you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless.


	3. Chapter Three

The sound of the van started up, the headlights coming on as Michael Wheeler began to drive back was the only thing that he could hear. He didn't realize the fact that he'd been out for so long, not until he glanced at the time on the little clock that was in the car. 

'11:16,' The small, digital clock read. 

He stayed at that party much longer than he originally anticipated, and he knew his boss most likely wasn't going to be happy about that. Another thing that was on his mind was the fact that he'd accidentally ran into Jim Hopper's daughter, just to make matters worse. It wouldn't have been bad if the girl's father was anyone else... but her father was the literal Chief police of their entire town.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he drove, tapping his long, slender fingers on the steering wheel every few seconds. Cars honked around him, making him roll his eyes. He'd be home in less than an hour, just needed to stay awake and stay alert till he got there. He didn't notice the first time that he was getting many notifications from someone or some app but when it vibrated against his leg again he sighed and pulled it out of his pocket. He was sure to keep his eyes on the street to make sure he didn't crash. 

He had several text notifications from the contact "Grumpy pissy man," who just so happened to be Sean, he's clingy, angry boss. The texts were all the same but in different deliveries, but they all basically read 'where r u,' & 'why won't u reply' 

Mike rolled his eyes and he quickly unlocked his phone and pressed on one of the notifications so that Sean's contact opened up. After spending a bit of time deciding on what to do, he called the man. He answered the phone almost immediately and right away he was already screaming at Mike. He knew he would be angry but he didn't think he'd be seething. He didn't have to see Sean know he was mad. 

The yelling came to be annoying, so Mike said a simple "See you in thirty," and he hung up. That probably wasn't the wisest decision but he truly didn't care. Hearing people yell pissed him off, he wasn't going to tolerate it if he didn't physically have to.

To distract himself from his running thoughts he turned the radio on in the car, flipping through the stations. He didn't like most of the music they chose to put on the radio, his music taste consisted of all genre's of indie, as well as rock. Shit, he even liked a few rap songs. All of the music on the radio was shit, in his opinion, so he angrily turned the radio back off and pressed on the gas pedal.

About forty minutes later he saw the deteriorating "Welcome to Hawkins!" sign, and he let out a relieved sigh. 

The warehouse was close now, only about five minutes away in driving distance and twenty, if he was walking. A yawn slipped past his plump, almost cherry red lips as he drove. He was dozing off, but he attempted to stay awake till he made it to the warehouse.

Once he finally arrived he sluggishly grabbed the money out of his backpack and he parked his car, turning off the engine once he decided he was parked good enough. He didn't need to be perfectly parked, he just needed it to be good enough. 

He heard the sound of rocks crunching under his combat boots as he walked to the warehouse. When he was walking to the building he always had to go in from the back door, just in case anyone was around. That's exactly what he did, grabbing his phone out of his pocket t shine the light's where his eyes couldn't see things hiding. He didn't like being alone in the dark, it wasn't like he was scared of the dark itself, but he was scared of what could've been lurking where the darkness swallowed him up.

When he saw the door to the warehouse he picked up his pace, almost speedwalking now. Whenever people walked with him they had to walk extremely fast. His legs were so long that one stride for him was two for someone with an average height. 

He opened the door to the warehouse, accidentally making a loud entrance because of how to love the door squeaks when you open it. He made him annoyed look on his face, but he continued to walk. He saw his boss Sean and the distance now, the man didn't look happy.

"Where were you?!" Sean already began to scream once he was close enough to him. The older man had an idea but he wanted Mike to say it himself.

"I was out, you're the one who told me to do this. Why are you mad?" He said, tossing the bag of money to Sean as he spoke. Sean luckily caught it and he stared at Mike with something that the teen could only describe as a hard death glare.

"You stayed around, didn't you? What the fuck Mike. I have been waiting here for you to come back for HOURS" Sean howled, opening the bag and beginning to angrily count the money as he continued to yell. An annoyed look was on the boy's face who he was fussing at. Mike always wondered how someone could yell so much every day. Did the man like hearing himself scream or what?

Mike didn't want to say sorry, because he wasn't sorry. He didn't care, never did he really care about anyone else. Not even in a mean way, it was just he didn't grow up in a home where you are supposed to care for people. When his mom was alive she was the sweetest, she was a living angel but when she died he switched. His father did as well, when his mother was alive his father was at least a little nice, at least he attempted to pretend that he was. After her death, though everything changed for him. Stop caring about anything and everything. Everything began to feel like a punishment to him. Even his mom's death, for years he blamed himself for it.

Michael Wheeler had a lot of psychological issues. As he grew up, not getting any help for them only begin to make it worse. Help was never something he could afford, anyway, but some days he thought about it. 

He continues speaking after that but his voice sort of trails off into the far distance, or at least in Mike's mind it does; He's much rather focused on the bag of money in Sean's hands than what the man has to say. 

"I'm only giving you 500 since you can't seem to fucking listen to me. You're gonna learn." Sean said, roughly handing him his pay. If Mike was in a better mood he would have protested that he deserved more, he didn't count the money when the man gave it to him at the party but he knew 500 was too little of an amount to get. But he didn't say anything he just didn't feel like arguing anymore today oh, he was too tired... both mentally and physically.

He left the warehouse that night with much less than he deserved.

Luckily, Sean didn't hit him. He wouldn't be surprised if he got hit tonight. In his head, he thought that whenever he did something wrong he deserves to be hit because this whole life whenever something happened and it was his fault he ended up being hit. He was actually more surprised two days he wasn't hit by people, whether it's his father or his boss. 

He wouldn't let people at school mess with him though, it's why he never got picked on. In school, he actually fought back. But when it was people who were so much older than him he froze up. It was like suddenly he couldn't.do anything.

He got home and was welcomed with a black eye by his father. He'd forgotten to sneak in from his window because he was too fatigued so when he walked in through his front door at 12 in the morning his father began to yell at him.

His dad was an abusive alcoholic, his mother deceased, and his siblings? Well, his older sister had moved out the day she turned eighteen, and his little sister was sent to an all-girls boarding school. He worked to keep her in school, so she wasn't home with his father. He couldn't bear to see his little sister get beat every day. He knew that if she stayed it would've eventually happened.

"Less than two more years," He sighed to himself, peeling his clothes off and climbing into his bed. He'd shower and examine the bruises his dad gave him later, but for now, he needed to rest. Today was too much, even for him. 

~

"Bye Jane! I love you!" Maxine Mayfield exclaimed as her best friend got out of her car. The petite girl smiled and waved goodbye to Max, and her boyfriend Lucas Sinclair. The redhead stayed in Jane's driveway until she knew that she was safe in her home, and only then did she and Lucas begin to drive away.

Lucky for Jane, her father wasn't home. If he was he would've bombarded her with questions like "Why do you smell like alcohol?" and "Why is your hair a mess?" and the classic "Did you sneak out?" she didn't feel like having to make up excuses n the spot. She was still the tiniest bit tipsy, walking up the stairs of her cozy cabin to her bedroom with a sway. Her rather small hands gripped the railing as she maneuvered her way up the stairs to her bedroom. 

She for sure was lightweight, only had one single drink and she was practically falling all over the place. Some would say she is quote-unquote 'white girl wasted'

When she was finally in her bedroom she began to slip her plain black converse off, then her socks. Last to come was her dress, and she struggled just the tiniest bit with that because this dress had a zipper. Once she was bare, and just the slightest bit cold she walked over to her closet and slipped on a nightgown. 

"Alexa! What time is it?" 

"It's 12:03" 

Jane's eyes widened, twelve?! She couldn't think of a time where she stayed up at such a crazy time. She didn't have a bedtime, but she liked to be asleep by 10. She had to go to bed.

She walked across her bedroom and climbed into her pink bed, grabbing her book that was on her bedside table. She began to read, as she did every night, smiling at the book.

'If you have nothing else, you have your memory... memory is proof that you've lived.' the book quote said. Memories... how beautiful they are. Jane wanted to be able to be an old lady one day, telling her grandkids about how cool she was when she was a kid. She hopes by then that she wouldn't forget for memories. As the quote said, if you have nothing else at least you have your memories it's proof that you've existed.

Jane Hopper had no idea what it meant to live, she'd never kissed a boy, never been on a date, never had sex, never even felt a crazy adrenaline rush. Up until today she'd never went to a party, never snuck out, never drank. She wanted to change that. Sure, she knows all those things named are not the only thing that you look forward to and are not the only proof that you've lived... but she wanted to do something fun, there wasn't much fun in her life, she didn't have many friends. She wanted to change that.

She went to sleep that night with a small smile on her face. In the morning she'd have to tell Max what happened with the mysterious boy who went by the name "Mike," but for now she rested, for once happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter wasn't boring for you guys! This chapter was just to explain Mike's home life a little more. I hope you enjoyed it. How do you like this story so far? :)

**Author's Note:**

> That's all for now :) Mike's AU character is heavily inspired by Boris Pavlikovsky if you can't let tell. I don't know if I will update this, I'll have to see if anyone even reads it. This is my first official story on this website. I am the slightest bit nervous but that is fine.


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